Wednesday, May 23, 2012

What I Do.

There's a movie out on my favorite thing in the world, Netflix, called: "That's What I Am."  It's incredible.  **disclaimer, If you are sensitive to swearing it says the a-word 4 times, the d-word 5 times, and b word once**  It's about bullying and becoming who YOU are, not what other people want you to be, expect you to be, or pressure you into being.  You should watch it, then we can gab over it like Once Upon a Time!

But, back to the focus of this post... I'm one of the lucky people who know what they are.  I'm a writer.  I've known this since the seventh grade when my English teacher pulled me aside and told me I was a good writer, and I went on to win the English Department award.

Writing has always been important to me, heck, I bet I came out of the womb with a pencil in my hand.  In second grade I wrote book after book, writing was my favorite part of the day.  In third-fifth grade I created a neighborhood newsletter called the, "Kids News" where I collected writing samples from the other kids, complied them, and sold my paper door-to-door.  I've kept a journal for years (except this year I've been seriously lacking in that department, I'm working on it though) and I love writing poetry.

I would have never done anything with my talent if that English teacher hadn't pulled me aside.  Because of her I have been published in the local newspaper and our yearbook, I've been Editor-in-Chief of the school paper and literary magazine, and my poetry has been published in three different books.  I owe her a lot.

I doubt myself though.  All the time.  I never ever feel like what I'm doing is enough.  Especially this year when I feel like I'm trying my hardest but nothing is really coming out of it.  I felt like no one noticed my efforts so I started to give up.  (I know, I know, "as long as you're doing your best it shouldn't matter what anyone things about it." It matters to me.)

I got one of my essay papers back for my English 1010 class (it was an Ethnographic Essay with a partner), and instantly regretted not trying harder this trimester.  I wish I could have shown my teacher what my best writing is, because this essay could have been a lot better if any effort had been put into it.  Even so, he restored the confidence I have in my writing and I know things are only going to get better from here.

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